


Misadventures in Magic

by WindChimeGhost



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crack, Crack Fic, Ficlet, Gen, Humor, Loki (Marvel)-centric, Magic, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual, Non-Sexual Spanking, Poor Loki (Marvel), Pre-Thor (2011), Short One Shot, Short Story, Spanking, comical, humorous spanking, mishap, silly spanking, slapstick spanking, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindChimeGhost/pseuds/WindChimeGhost
Summary: Loki attempts to learn a complicated, encrypted spell. But things go horribly wrong when he accidentally speaks the wrong word.Contains mild, humorous/comical spanking. Don't like, don't read.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Misadventures in Magic

**Author's Note:**

> ~ Comments are welcomed. But critique is not desired ~
> 
> **Heads up: This fanfic contains spanking content! But I chose to rate it G because I feel like it's not graphic enough to warrant a T rating. It's mild spanking that's portrayed in a comical way, like you'd see in a cartoon. However, if spanking of any kind isn't your cup of tea, then hit your back button and ignore this story. That's all you have to do.**
> 
> This is a short fanfic I started writing back in 2017 and never finished. I put it away when I became busy with writing other fics and such. I planned to get back to it someday, but for some reason I never did. It’s been left unfinished in my fanfic folder all this time. On a whim, I decided to pull it out over the weekend, dust it off, and finally put an ending on it. Just part of my ongoing effort to finish up all the fics I’ve started and left unfinished over the years. It feels good to finally get it completely done and uploaded!
> 
> Anyway, this is just a crack fic of sorts. A crazy, fun, silly little plot bunny that hit me one day, and I had to write out. I realized that most of the spank fics I write are a mixture of hurt/comfort and fall more into the angst category. None of them are silly, humorous. Since my affinity for spanking came from growing up watching the old classic cartoons where spanking was a common comedic antic, I consider this my small tribute to that bit of classic slapstick.
> 
> Another thing that partly inspired this fic is that I’ve read a ton load of spank fics for Loki over the years, with him being spanked by just about everyone. But I’ve never read one where Loki unintentionally brings the spanking on himself from a mishap, with no one else being involved, which is actually something I can easily see him doing. lol! Just one of those humiliating “Oh crud!” moments that you hope no one ever finds out about.
> 
>  **And to clear up timeline confusion ahead of time: This fic takes place sometime BEFORE the first Thor movie, when he’s still learning magic from Frigga (obviously). He’s around the same age as he is in the first movie, but this story takes place before the movie events.**  
> 
> 
> Loki and all related characters © Marvel  
> Fanfic and plot ©2017-2020 by me
> 
> (Please do not take, use, edit, or repost without permission. Linking my fanfics around the Internet or making copies/downloading them to Kindle/tablets for private use is perfectly okay. But copying and reposting or redistributing them without my permission is NOT okay.)

Loki sat in his room and huddled over a large spellbook. He turned the pages carefully as if they would break under his touch—and they probably would, being so ancient. He paused long enough to skim over the spells on each one and then moved on to the next. He quickly flipped the last remaining few pages, closed the book, and set it aside on his desk.

He picked up another book, absently flipped through the pages, and tossed it down on the floor. The loud thump echoed through his chambers and startled some pigeons outside on the balcony. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. His eyes drifted to the small opened book on the bed. It taunted him the longer he stared at it.

He tried all week to master a spell that was far more difficult than anything he had tackled. Of course, Frigga told him he needed to take it slow and not rush it, that in time he would be able to expertly exercise it. But try as he might, he just couldn’t get the hang of it. The spell in question, if mastered correctly, could summon a personal avatar for the individual who called it forth. If he could master it, it would be a great asset to him in combat. Maybe then he wouldn’t be laughed at by Thor’s friends, The Warriors Three and Sif. But the spell was old—very old. It was older than even Odin himself, quite possibly even older than Bor. No one really knew how old it was. Some of the words were faded or smeared, so it was hard to make out what it said. Frigga told him it was a safety precaution, to keep the wrong people from learning the spell. The ones worthy of learning it would be able to tap into its magic and the words revealed to them.

Worthy…

Why was everything based on how worthy a person is? It didn’t seem fair.

For the past five days, Loki spent countless hours mumbling the words he could read, memorizing them. While doing so, he hoped the words he couldn’t read would come to him, but so far…nothing. Did it mean he wasn’t worthy?

Letting out a sigh, he stood and walked the few yards to his bedside. Here he picked up the book and stared at the crisp yellow pages. Maybe if he stared long enough at one of the smudged words, something would come to him.

He concentrated on it for several long minutes. But nothing happened.

He sighed again and rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. “This is so frustrating! I’m never going to get this stupid spell down!”

“No, you’re not—not with that attitude, anyway.”

Loki spun around. “Mother!”

Frigga smiled and walked into the room.

“I didn’t hear you approach.”

The All-Mother stretched out a slender hand and took the book from Loki.

“You must concentrate,” she urged.

“What do you think I was doing when you walked in? I _have_ been concentrating,” Loki replied. “I’ve concentrated so much that I feel like my eyeballs are going to freeze that way.”

Frigga chuckled, lifting her eyebrows. “Then you must concentrate harder, my son.”

“Why does this spell have to be protected in this way?”

“I’ve already told you. It would be dangerous in an enemy’s hands,” Frigga explained. “The avatar this spell summons gives its owner great strength and mystical protection far beyond the average Asgardian. We can’t have our enemies creating armies that wield these. It’s encrypted in case the palace is ever infiltrated during wartime. Our ancestors wrote it out and then cast a spell over it.”

Loki nodded that he understood. “So, the smeared words are part of the spell, then?”

Frigga nodded. “Correct. Only the best and most powerful sorcerers, if worthy, can decipher it and use it.”

“Can you?” Loki asked. Boyish wonder showed in his green eyes as he studied her face.

Frigga’s smile widened knowingly. “I’m not one to brag, but, yes, I can. I learned it a long, long, long time ago when I was but a little girl in training.”

“Then why can’t you just tell me?”

Despite herself, Frigga let out an amused laugh, not believing her son’s eager willingness to cheat. “Loki, it doesn’t work that way. You must study and show yourself worthy to master this spell. Otherwise, you won’t be able to properly use it. You can’t expect to cheat your way through. As with anything else in life, there are no shortcuts in magic. It’s an art. In order to master it, you must work hard and practice.”

“But, Mother, it’s so hard…” he whined.

Frigga cupped her hand around Loki’s chin and squeezed it gently. “I know it is, my son. If it were easy, everyone would do it. And we would have thousands of enemies cloaked in these.”

Loki pooched out his bottom lip and turned a sad puppy face to her.

Frigga grinned and thumped his nose gently with the tip of her finger. “Here.” She handed the book back and pointed to the page. “Study harder.”

“Yeah, sure,” Loki said halfheartedly.

“Maybe this will help.”

Loki looked around to see what his mother was talking about. She picked up his horned helmet and lifted it to place on his head. When she positioned it just so, she took a step back and clasped her hands together. Her face beamed proudly.

“Thanks, but I don’t see how it’s going to help. What I need is another magic spell—one that will help me with this one.”

Frigga gave his arm an affectionate squeeze. “Don’t give up. You’ll master it soon enough. Take your time and do your best.”

“But...what if I’m not worthy?”

Frigga studied his face a moment. “You’re worthy. You would not be standing here now, studying the spell if you weren’t. So get to studying, my all powerful sorcerer.”

With a wink, the All-Mother turned and exited the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

He hoped she was right.

Loki loosened his shoulders, inflating his cheeks and exhaling the air through his mouth. His brow drew down as he put on his most serious concentration expression. He took another look at the page of the spell book. He read each word aloud while he walked the length of his room, moving his hand in quick, intricate gestures. When he came to the first smudged word, he tried sounding it out to the best of his ability, hoping it would suddenly reveal itself to him.

“S...s...spink...” he said, sounding it out slowly. His brow drew down more as he struggled to make out what the word was. He was almost sure it started with an S. Maybe if he squinted he would be able to make out just the slightest…“S...spunker...” He squinted tighter. “No, no, wait...I got it! Spenkeroita!” he shouted, throwing his hand upward.

At first, nothing happened, which is what he expected. That’s why the pages of the book spewing out gold sparks startled him.

“Yipe!” he cried. He dropped it like a hot coal and stepped back. He watched in awe as a sparkly glowing green mist bellowed out of the book’s pages and filled the air over him. It parted and created the outline of a pair of ghostly hands, the same green color as the mist.

Loki’s heart jumped with excitement. Did he finally succeed in creating an avatar? But…that can’t be right. He only read off the first few lines of the spell. That wasn’t enough to do anything, or shouldn’t be. Normally, spells won’t work unless you read every word correctly, in the right order, and read the spell all the way through from beginning to end without stopping. Get a word wrong or out of place, and it could end with disastrous consequences.

Loki kept his eyes on the hands that hovered next to the ceiling. If it wasn’t an avatar, then…what was it? A disembodied soul pulled from the depths of Niflheim? Part of an illusion, perhaps? Or worse… Did he get a word wrong or out of place?

For the next several minutes, the hands remained motionless. Then they floated down to hover in front of Loki. They crossed to opposite sides like someone had crossed their arms over their chest. For the briefest moment, Loki felt a pang of nervousness. He swallowed and took a step or two back, away from the hands. Somehow he had the feeling these…things…were checking him out—studying him, sizing him up. For what purpose, he didn’t know.

The hands uncrossed. One of them snapped its fingers. Instantly, the green outline of a wooden spoon appeared and hovered next to them.

Loki blinked, not entirely understanding.

“Perhaps I accidentally conjured a cooking spell?” he mused. He stepped forward and prepared to pick up the book. Suddenly, quick as a flash, one of the hands grabbed hold of his arm. Startled by the new turn of events, the trickster looked at it then up at the other one and the spoon. Despite being simply outlines, they felt as real and as solid as any real hand.

“What goes on here?” Loki said as he tried to pull away. The grip on him tightened and pulled him forward, leading him to the bed. “Wha-what is this? What are you doing?” He felt silly talking to magical manifestations that couldn’t reply back, but he couldn’t help it.

With a jerk, the hand holding him yanked him onto his stomach, across the bed.

“Hey!” He kicked and fought to right himself, but the second hand quickly grabbed his legs and held them in place with unnatural strength.

A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like where this was leading—not one bit. The position was all too familiar. He twisted his head around and glanced over his shoulder, silently praying to the Norns he wouldn’t see what he expected to see.

But he did.

His heart almost stopped, and he swallowed. A cold tickling inched up his spine. He watched in wide-eyed fear as a third hand appeared. It made fast work at pulling back his cape and tunic and yanking his trousers down enough to expose his bottom.

Loki emitted a squeak. He raised himself up on his elbows and struggled to right himself. But the first two hands tightened their grip and made sure he wasn’t going anywhere, pushing his face into the bed comforter. His heart beat violently against his rib cage. He now understood what these hands were about to do. Really? A magic spell like this actually exists?? What sadistic sorcerer came up with this?

“I must have said the wrong word and completed another spell,” Loki breathed aloud. “A s-s-spanking spell.” He tried again to get loose of the hand that pressed down on his back. In response, a sudden, sharp sting surged through his rear.

“OUCH!” he cried out, squeezing his eyes closed and jerking forward. He expelled a breath of air through his mouth, forced out of him from the sharpness of the blow. It happened so quickly, like a striking snake. He twisted around to see the wooden spoon hovering inches over his butt. “I haven’t done anything deserving of this except accidentally summoning you stupid hands into existence!”

POP!

“OW!!” Loki screamed out again when the second round of pain seared him. He clenched his butt and attempted to move it out of target range. He wriggled his legs, but the hands held them down with strength that rivaled Thor. “So that’s the way you want to play.”

He pulled his thoughts together and focused his energy. An illusion copy of himself appeared on the other side of the room.

“Hey, I’m over here!” it said in his voice. Just as he surmised, the hands let him go and flew toward the double. Quickly, he got to his feet and tugged his pants up. Keeping his eyes locked on the hands, he got down on his knees and grabbed the book.

“Yow!” he screamed out when a magical charge stung his fingers. The book fell to the floor again. He put his injured fingers in his mouth and turned his eyes upward at the hands coming toward him.

“Blast,” he grumbled. He looked around for the double, but it had already dissipated, quite possibly when the hands tried grabbing onto it. His eyes searched the room, although he had no idea what it was he was looking for. He scrambled to his feet, attempting to reach the spell book on his desk. He felt a hard tug on his cape, and he was jerked backward off his feet and across the bed again.

“LET ME GO!” he screamed out as one of the hands pinned him down. The second one pinned his legs. And, again, the third focused on pummeling his backside with its spoon.

“Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” Loki said with each swat. By now, the pain was building and growing uncomfortable. He dropped and lowered his bottom, hoping it would discourage the onslaught. But it didn’t. The hand lowered itself and brought the spoon down hard, cracking right across the center of his underside.

“YEOWCH!” Loki cried out, tears beginning to leak out of his eyes. He hissed and drew in a breath. His butt was beginning to burn.

He had to get out of here.

Loki clenched his teeth as an especially heavy smack came down again, practically in the same spot. He forced the pain out of his mind the best he could and summoned another illusion copy. It rippled weakly, his mind struggling to focus. The spoon repeatedly coming down on his backside was doing its share to distract him.

“I’m over here, you dolts,” his copy shouted out as it ran over by the balcony.

At once, the hands let Loki go in favor of going after the double. Either they had the shortest attention span in all the Nine Realms, or they were seriously that dumb. Loki wasn’t sure which, but he was thankful they were either of the two.

He stiffly got up off the bed, grabbing his trousers to pull them up partway. He limped over to his desk, grabbed a spell book, and ran toward the door. He stopped long enough to glance over his shoulder to see his double running away from the hands. As  
long as it kept them busy, he could get away. He pulled the heavy door to his room open and ran out into the hallway…and kept running.

He knew he looked like a fool. He struggled between carrying his book and keeping his trousers pulled up enough to keep his privates covered, thankful his cape covered his backside. But at the moment, he really didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was getting as far away from the hands as he could.

He darted behind the nearest pillar and leaned against it. Breathing heavy, he let go of his pants and opened the book with trembling fingers. He searched franticly for a counterspell—anything he could use against the hands.

He stopped, his mouth dropping open. Slowly, he turned his head toward the green glow beside him. His eyes went wide when he saw a hand waggling that horrid wooden spoon in his face. He uttered a whimper and turned to run, but another hand grabbed onto his cape. The other grabbed hold of one of the horns of his helmet, but he jerked it loose.

“No, no! Leave me alone!” He twisted his cape around in an attempt to free himself from the hold. He saw the hand wielding the spoon coming up close behind him. It succeeded in swatting him several times, making him hop forward.

“OW! Owowowow!” He growled in frustration. “I said get away!” He swung the spellbook around and swatted the hand away from his bottom. Finally, his cape gave way, coming loose from his golden armor to hang limply in the hand. He turned and ran farther down the corridor, still struggling to keep hold of his trousers the entire way. He stumbled and fell forward. He caught himself before he could fall on his face across the marbled floor and went down on his knees.

A line of fire lashed across his exposed butt, pushing a loud, pained squeal out his mouth. It came out sounding far more undignified than he anticipated. He jumped up and ran, taking a second to look behind him to see the hand carrying the spoon coming up close behind him again. It lowered itself to get a better aim. Loki’s eyes followed it, fear gripping him as he realized that another burning blow was inches from his rear. Then he watched in horror as the wooden spoon melted into a switch. The sight of the thing caused him to falter and slow down momentarily. He realized it too late as his backside paid dearly for it. The hand flicked and the switch swept across his naked cheeks in a single brisk stroke. It took only a split second, but the pain left in its wake made Loki scream out and grab his butt. He skipped forward and ran faster, picking up speed to put as much distance as he could between himself and that dreaded hand. It all happened so fast, yet it felt like he’d been touched by a hot branding iron.

His sight was growing blurry as tears formed in his eyes. He saw Frigga ahead of him, tending to some potted plants setting on the windowsill. Maybe she would know of a way to get him out of this mess.

Loki squeaked when he glanced over his shoulder again and saw the hands keeping pace, seeming to match his speed—the one swinging the switch around pushing forward to get closer. No time to stop and talk, so he ran past his mother without so much as acknowledging her.

Frigga blinked in surprise as she watched her son run by her in a blur, his trousers coming down, exposing his naked bottom. By now, she was more than used to the unexplainable antics of her trickster son. But there were times when she seriously questioned his sanity.

“Loki! What in the Nine Realms are you doing?” she called after him. “Running through the halls while being indecently exposed like that. Pull up your trousers, young man.”

“The hands!” he shouted back. It was all he could get out as he turned a corner at the end of the hallway and disappeared.

Puzzled, Frigga looked around to see what it was that had upset her son. She stepped back against the windowsill while she watched the three glowing hands zoom by in hot pursuit of Loki. Her eyes followed them as they turned the same corner. What came next was a loud, watery screech.

“Mother!” Loki said, suddenly appearing beside Frigga in a puff of unnatural green smoke. She jumped despite herself. “I think I lost them for now. But not before they took another swing at me. Norns, that switch stings!”

She frowned. “Loki, what’s going on? I thought you were studying.”

“I was!” Loki breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. “I was concentrating on that spell and uttered the wrong incantation and those green hands appeared. I don’t know how or why. Mother, they’re trying to spank me! I said the wrong word and called forth a spanking spell. Look at what they did to my posterior.” Loki turned around to show his mother his splotchy pink butt. Red lines streaked across it where the switch landed. By now, they were turning into painful welts that made themselves known quite prominently when he twisted around. He hissed out his discomfort and dropped his spellbook to concentrate on rubbing his bottom. “It hurts!”

Frigga put a hand to her mouth and struggled to hold back amused laughter as she watched Loki nurse himself. Leave it to Loki to summon a spanking spell, she thought. Loki, being the mischievous little trickster he was, had earned his share of spankings from her over the years, and she knew from experience that he wasn’t one to take the punishment well. In fact, he loathed it. So to see him in his current predicament amused her greatly. Although, a part of her did feel sorry for him that he’d wreaked this unfortunate mishap on himself.

“How do I get them to go away?”

“What spell did you speak?” she asked. She cleared her throat.

“How should I know??” He seethed as he focused on rubbing the underside of his bottom. “Whoever came up with it needs to die a long, slow, painful death.”

Frigga’s laughter finally burst forth. “Poor baby. Would you like that I fetch you some herbal salve?”

“It’s not funny, Mother!” He glanced around, keeping watch for the hands. “I tried to pick up the spellbook I was studying, but it wouldn’t let me touch it.”

“A common natural defense,” Frigga explained. “Some spells are like that. It keeps them protected from being tampered with until they carry out the actions they were summoned to do.”

“Oh, that’s great. Leave it to a spanking spell to have a natural defense,” Loki said. “Just my luck.” He looked around again and gasped. The hands finally found him. They floated silently and quickly through the hallway, coming up to them fast.

“They’re coming back!” Loki squealed out at a decibel that made it sound like he’d been hit in the groin. He shielded his rear with his hand and ran around to hide behind Frigga, which looked quite comical considering he was slightly taller with horns sticking out of his helmet. “Please, no more. No more! Make them go away, Mama. Use a counterspell on them.”

Frigga remained unmoving, a look of great amusement still on her face as she watched the green hands approach. “You have the power to make them go away.”

Loki’s mouth worked, his eyes flitting between the hands and his mother. Was she seriously turning this moment into a magic lesson? His bottom’s fate was at stake! His mind worked furiously, struggling to remember what she was referring to. Seeing the switch in the magical hand made his mind go blank. All he felt was sheer panic at the thought of feeling more fire applied to his backside. He clenched his butt protectively and whimpered.

“I don’t remember. I can’t think!”

The hand holding the switch ignored Frigga as if she wasn’t even there and swerved around her, taking a swing at Loki. He yelped and circled his mother, keeping his butt out of reach.

“MOTHER!” he shouted on his third lap around the All-Mother, his voice cracking. “Help me, please! I beg of you!”

Frigga reached forward and grabbed hold of the hand and calmly said, “Létta!”

Immediately it, and the other two hands that followed it, dispersed in a green vapor.

Loki skidded to a stop when he saw he was no longer being pursued. He stood, his breathing labored. He loosened his grip on his butt cheeks and began rubbing them again, keeping his other hand tightly clamped on his pants lest they fall to his ankles. 

“Th-thank you,” he breathed out.

“We’ve had a lot of misadventures while studying magic before, but I have to say, this one tops them all.” A smirk pulled at the corner of Frigga’s lips.

Loki glanced at her, preferring to keep his eyes lowered to the floor. “You won’t speak of this to anyone, will you?”

Frigga pressed her lips together tightly in an effort not to laugh. “No, of course not. But let us hope the servants haven’t heard the commotion.”

Loki groaned.

Frigga chuckled as she took a gentle hold of his arm. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his cheek. “Come. I’ll get some salve and ice for your poor bottom. You can rest in my bed chambers for the remainder of the evening, and we will have dinner together on the balcony.”

“But I’ve got to learn that spell…”

“Shush. The spell can wait. You’ve earned a rest for the next several days.” Frigga patted his warm bottom gently and pulled up his pants as she guided him in the direction of her bed chambers. The humorous sight of her son running through the hall with his trousers pulled down still played across her mind and caused her to smile. This had certainly been a day to log away in her memories of being a mother.

-The End


End file.
